


The Best Way To Spread Christmas Cheer Is By Singing Loud For All To Hear

by fiveainley_ohmy



Category: Elf (2003), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Christmas, Human Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28214733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveainley_ohmy/pseuds/fiveainley_ohmy
Summary: Castiel has always wondered why he’s so different from all the other Christmas angels. It turns out he’s really a human who was taken in by the angels as a baby. Castiel decides to travel to the human world to meet his soulmate, Dean Winchester. Unfortunately Dean has lost his Christmas spirit and it’s up to Castiel to get Dean to believe again and get off the naughty list.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	1. What Child Is This?

Oh, hey there. Let me guess, you’re here to hear the story. Well, alright then, grab a plate of Christmas cookies and a glass of milk, ‘cause this is gonna take a while.

You ever wondered why we put angels at the top of our Christmas trees? Well, because angels are real. I know, I didn’t believe it myself, but they are. They watch over us at Christmas time, making sure everyone has safe holiday travels and perfect white Christmas snowfalls, but mostly what they do is help out Santa. Yeah, I know, you thought it was elves, didn’t you. That’s the part everyone gets wrong.

Christmas angels get to where they are for being very methodical and organized. It’s a whole system. An angel gets assigned to watch over a family, keep track of the children’s niceness and naughtiness, then when December rolls around they collect the kids’ wish lists and bring them to the North Pole where the data is entered into a computer that keeps track of everything, so everything’s ready to go on Christmas Eve. Meanwhile another squad of angels is in charge of making the toys, working all year round to fill those orders. Making toys is fun and all for an angel, but the real glory is in getting to be a guardian. It’s what every angel dreams of.

In all the hundreds of years of angels serving humanity on Christmas, no human being has ever set foot in Santa’s workshop. Until, that is, about 30 or so years ago. And that’s where our story really begins...

Unfortunately, this story starts out sad. See, there was one fateful December night when there was a horrible car accident. The newly proud parents of identical twin baby boys were out for a drive when their car slipped and skid on the icy road. They died so fast, the angel who’d been assigned to their family didn’t even have time to save them. So those twin boys went to an orphanage.

Now babies often get adopted so quickly, so it was strange when only one, James, was taken immediately and the other wasn’t. As the days to Christmas Eve grew nearer and nearer, the angel Gabriel became more and more worried for the leftover baby, knowing he’d have to report back to the North Pole soon to get assigned to his new family. But he still felt obligated to his current charge.

Gabriel had never been the most...conventional angel in the garrison. But neither Santa nor the other angels could’ve ever predicted he would bring that little baby up North with him.

“Gabriel, what in the Christmas have you done?!” exclaimed Santa when he arrived with that gurgling mass of blankets in his arms. She looked mad enough to have kittens.

Another thing everyone gets wrong: Santa is an old fat guy with a white beard. Santa can come in any size, shape, color, age, or even gender. See, Santa’s kind of like a title. It gets passed down from person to person. At the time, this Santa was a beautiful lady with dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin, and a commanding voice that gets everyone’s attention when it’s raised. This Santa may not have been the holly jolly type, but she cared, deeply, that Christmas went exactly right, that every child got the toys they deserved on Christmas. And a rogue human baby at the North Pole was _not_ a part of her plan.

“I couldn’t leave him alone, Ms. C,” Gabriel said, gazing down into the child’s merry blue eyes. The baby gurgled in delight and reached up its pudgy arms toward him, and Gabriel’s heart warmed at the sight. “His parents are gone, he’s all alone in this world.”

“He’s not alone, look at the mark on his wrist. He’s got a soulmate out there. In a few decades’ time he’ll want to be with them and he can’t meet his soulmate if he’s up here with us. He doesn’t belong here, Gabe.”

“But what about until then?” Gabriel said, and Santa could see that the argument was already lost. The angel had bonded with the baby and nothing but _nothing_ would separate them now. Gabriel had always had a soft spot for children. “He needs to be cared for, not sitting in some cold, heartless orphanage on Christmas thinking no one in the world cares for him. I’ll raise him here, Ms. C, and when he’s grown up, if he wants, he can go back to the human world.”

Santa sighed. “This is a _bad_ idea, Gabe. He doesn’t even have wings. He’ll never fit in here.”

Gabriel frowned, hugging the baby protectively. “I’ll be there for him.”

“Oh? And what about the next family you’re to watch over? You can’t do your duties _and_ care for a human baby at the same time.”

Gabriel swallowed hard, taking another look at his charge. The baby laughed with delight at the sight of Gabriel, and the angel knew, nothing would ever be as important as _this._ His stomach plummeted as he realized what he had to do.

“Then give my position to one of the other angels,” Gabriel said. “I’ll...take a job in the workshop.”

“You know what you’re giving up, don’t you?” Santa said warningly. “Many angels would do anything to be where you are. Are you absolutely sure about this?”

Gabriel nodded firmly, tickling the baby under the chin. Despite his sadness, the baby’s giggle brought a smile to his lips. “I’m sure.”

Santa nodded slowly. “Alright then.” She turned away, her long red coat swirling around her ankles. “Oh by the way,” she asked, turning to look back over her shoulder. “What’s the little tyke’s name?”

“His parents named him Castiel...” Gabriel chuckled. “Kinda sounds angelic, huh?”

Santa hummed thoughtfully, then turned again and left.

“Baby Castiel,” Gabriel whispered, bouncing him gently in his arms. “Don’t be sad. You’re with the angels now.”

* * *

And like that, Castiel was inducted into the life of the Christmas angels. He grew up at the normal human rate, which felt like both a blip and an eternity to his angel guardian. See, time feels different to an angel since they’re immortal, but angels are never really born, they’re just created, fully formed, so they never grow up. So it was pretty hard for little Castiel, having no kids to play with as a kid. Then again, there were no snot-nose kid angels around to mock him about his lack of wings, so maybe it was for the best. Castiel never questioned why he had no wings, assuming they would grow in when he reached adulthood.

He did, however, ask Gabriel why he had a strange marking on his arm. Gabriel didn’t quite know how to explain it without giving away that Castiel was human. Of course he planned to tell him _someday,_ when Castiel was older, when he was ready to hear that he was adopted.

“It’s a special marking that means that someday,” Gabriel explained, “you’re gonna meet someone very special. Someone who’s gonna be like a best friend to you, and even more.”

“I’d like that.” Castiel had recently lost his front tooth, so there was a gap in his smile. “There’s never anyone for me to play with. Except the reindeer, but Uriel won’t let me go in the stables.”

“Uriel just doesn’t want you to get trampled on by accident. The reindeer are very nice, but they are temperamental animals. Maybe someday when you’re old enough to get your assignment, they’ll assign you to work with the reindeer.”

Castiel blinked, tilting his head to the side slightly. “No, Gabriel, when I’m grown up, I’m going to be a guardian angel and watch over the human families.”

Gabriel’s stomach twisted guiltily. Having no wings, that was the one angel job Castiel could _never_ do. But rather than crush the boy’s hopes, he merely smiled and said, “Well in the meantime...my boss let me bring this home for you. Maybe he can keep you company when I’m at the workshop.” Gabriel held out a little wooden soldier doll, dressed like one of the Queen’s Guard.

Castiel took the soldier and smiled, studying him. “He has green eyes. I like that.”

“I know it’s hard, but one day, Castiel, you’ll have a friend.” Gabriel patted Cas’s arm where his soulmate mark was. “You just have to be patient.”

And Castiel was patient. He took Gabriel’s advice and waited and waited and waited, until finally one day he was ready to begin his angel career.

* * *

It was the day of Castiel’s placement. He sat awkwardly on a stool (the North Pole had almost no chairs to accommodate everyone’s wings). Raphael, the one in charge of angel assignments, stared him down from her desk. “Castiel, recite the Angel Code,” she commanded.

Castiel swallowed. “Number one: treat every day like Christmas. Number two: everyone deserves to be saved. And number three...” He faltered, trying to remember.

Raphael raised an eyebrow at him.

“...number three, the best way to spread Christmas cheer is by singing loud for all to hear!” Castiel recited, sighing with relief.

Raphael hummed flatly, looking over her checklist. “Well...I see only one possible job for you, Castiel.”

Castiel perked up, smiling brightly.

“You’ll go to work in the toy shop,” Raphael said, writing something down on her papers. “They always need more hands, especially with how greedy kids are getting these days. _I want an iPhone! I want a PS5! I want global warming to be fixed!_ I mean, who does this Greta Thunberg think she is?”

“Are...are you sure that’s where you think I belong?” Castiel said, heart sinking. The _toy shop?_ That place wasn’t special. He knew he had so much more to give. “Surely there’s a family out there I could watch ov-”

Raphael actually laughed out loud at that, and Raphael _never_ laughed. “ _You?_ A guardian? And how exactly do you expect to get to your family...by biking?” She gestured to his wingless shoulders.

Those wingless shoulders slumped. “Gabriel says I’m...a late bloomer.”

“Right...” Raphael said, blinking slowly. “Well, _until_ that happens, you can offer your services to the workshop.” She stamped Castiel’s form with a big rubber stamp and tore it off, handing it to him. “Report to Michael. Dismissed.”

Castiel took his orders and shuffled dejectedly out of her dark office.


	2. Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer

Angels, like I said, are very efficient at their jobs. A single Christmas angel can assemble on average 500 Etch-N-Sketches a day, or 1100 Funko Pop figurines, or 300 pairs of roller skates (that’s 600 skates in total). But Castiel wasn’t an angel, so he was a little less productive than his winged coworkers.

Castiel felt his intestines start tying themselves up in knots every time he saw his manager, Naomi, coming up the row toward him with her clipboard. He worked his arms even faster to get this Paw Patrol plushie stuffed for a little boy in Texas.

“Castiel.” 

Castiel paused as her shadow fell over him, his fist wrist-deep in puppy guts. “Hello, Naomi,” he said nervously.

“Will we be filling our quota today?”

Castiel closed his eyes. Not _once_ in the ten years he’d been making toys had he filled his quota. From his very first day he’d been playing catch up. “No, ma’am,” he said softly.

“I see. And how close are we?”

Castiel worried his bottom lip with his teeth.

“Come now, Castiel, how many Marshalls have you finished?”

Castiel swallowed. “...31?” he squeaked out.

The angels nearest him, Hannah and Samandriel, visibly cringed. Castiel knew either of them could make 10 stuffed animals in the same amount of time it took him to make just one.

Naomi simply nodded, marking it down on her clipboard. “I see.”

Then she moved on without comment. Castiel sighed, feeling like _he_ was the one with someone’s fist inside his guts.

“It’s alright, Castiel,” said Hannah kindly. “So what if you’re slow at making toys? It’s not _that_ bad.”

“Oh, don’t be nice to me, Hannah,” Castiel sighed, pulling his hand out of the Dalmatian. “Why don’t you all just say what you’re thinking about me? I’m an _assbutt.”_

The other angels gasped in shock at the use of vulgarities. Right here, in Santa’s workshop of all places!

“I’m taking my hot chocolate break,” Castiel said, getting up from the worktable angrily.

It’s worth noting that North Pole hot chocolate is _always_ the perfect temperature. Hot enough to warm you up right down to your bones, but not so hot that you’ll burn your tongue off trying to drink it. Castiel had just poured himself a mug of this perfect hot chocolate and sprinkled a handful of multi-colored mini marshmallows on top. He was so focused on the marshmallows that he didn’t notice his boss, Michael, and Naomi coming around the corner.

“...had to recruit five other angels just to pick up his slack-!” Naomi cut herself off as Michael walked straight into Castiel without looking, and the hot chocolate tumped over, right all over Castiel’s work smock.

“Ah ah ah, hot, _hot!”_ gasped Castiel, hurriedly pulling the soaking wet clothing away from his skin.

“Watch where you’re going!” Michael exclaimed, glowering at him.

“ _That’s_ him,” Naomi muttered, giving Castiel a disdainful look.

Castiel realized she must’ve been talking to Michael about _him_ and his ears burned. Surely nothing she had to say was good.

Michael glared at him. “Go get the mop and clean this up,” he growled.

Castiel hurried off, feeling close to tears. Could this day get any worse?

Amazingly, it _could._

As Castiel rolled the mop bucket back toward the hot chocolate station, he heard Michael and Naomi’s voices and hid around the corner. If his bosses were going to talk about him, he’d like to know _exactly_ what they had to say.

“Damn Gabriel and his soft heart,” Michael swore, sipping his cocoa angrily. “Doesn’t he realize his little _pet_ only causes problems for the rest of us?”

 _Pet?_ Castiel wondered. Gabriel didn’t keep any animals in the igloo they lived in together. What was Michael talking about?

“Don’t tell anyone you heard it from me,” Michael was saying, “but Santa is getting ready to retire after this Christmas, and I am _not_ getting passed up for promotion again. Don’t I deserve to be Santa? To wear the red coat, sit in the sleigh, only have to work one night out of the year, instead of micromanaging these toy-making imbeciles?”

“Oh, yes sir, absolutely,” said Naomi in that tone of voice that every middle manager takes on when they don’t really agree with their boss but they’re hoping their troubles will get them a boost on the corporate ladder.

“And that’s why the toy department _needs_ to be up on its numbers. We _cannot_ look bad in front of Santa. _I_ can’t look bad in front of Santa. Which is why I don’t need some wingless idiot dragging down our productivity!”

Castiel touched his featherless shoulder in shame and sighed softly.

“I still can’t believe he doesn’t _know_ ,” Naomi said. “Why hasn’t Gabriel told him the truth? I mean...if Castiel hasn’t figured out that he’s a human by now, I don’t believe he ever will.”

Castiel’s blood ran cold at that. _I’m a_ **_what?_ **

Suddenly Castiel’s vision began to swim, and he gripped the mop handle for support.

“Castiel?” Castiel barely registered that Samandriel was standing there, having come to look for him after he’d stormed off. “You don’t look so good...”

“I’m...fine...” said Castiel faintly. “Just need to...close my eyes for a moment.”

A second later, Castiel fell over with a loud _thud,_ crushing Samandriel underneath him.

 _“Cashtiel,”_ Samandriel said, his voice muffled underneath the solid human weight. _“Cashtiel?”_

* * *

Once he came to, Castiel ran right home, close to tears. He burst right through the door of his and Gabriel’s igloo and exclaimed, _“Why didn’t you tell me?!”_

Gabriel looked up from his book where he was reading by the fireplace, realizing what his ward must be talking about. He sighed, taking off his reading glasses. “Castiel, come in. We have a lot to talk about.”

So that afternoon, Gabriel told the human about his birth parents’ tragic death, him being left alone in the orphanage, and about how Gabriel had decided to raise him here in the North Pole. “You mean you gave up a position as a guardian for me?” Castiel said, eyes widening.

“It was worth it, Castiel. But nevertheless, I should’ve told you years ago about your origins. You have human family, a twin brother named James Novak, who’s a tax accountant, and he has a wife named Amelia and a daughter named Claire. And also...you have a soulmate.”

Castiel perked up at that. “A soulmate?”

“Yes. That marking on your arm you’ve always wondered about? It’s a soulmate mark. Most humans have them. It’s meant to guide you to the human you’re destined to be with, whether they’re your best friend, your romantic partner, or both.”

“Who’s my soulmate?” Castiel said.

“His name is Dean Winchester. He lives in Lebanon, Kansas. He writes children’s books.”

“He sounds perfect,” Castiel sighed.

Gabriel frowned. “Yes, well, Castiel, there’s something you should know about Dean...he’s on the naughty list.”

Castiel’s eyes flew open in horror. “What?! But how is that possible?”

“I don’t know. You know we stop watching after families after the children grow up. According to his family’s guardian, Anna, Dean and his brother Sam didn’t exactly have a happy childhood. Their mother died in a fire when the boys were very young and their father fell into a deep depression after she was gone. Dean basically had to raise Sam all on his own. Suffice it to say he grew up a little disillusioned with life. He finds Christmas to be a particularly hard time of year.”

“That’s not right,” Castiel said. “Rule number two of the Angel Code states that everyone deserves to be saved, and that includes my soulmate.” Castiel stood up. “I’m going to the human world to save my soulmate and get him back on the nice list.”

Gabriel nodded. “I always knew this day would come. You’ll need some things for the trip. Food, money, clothing to keep you warm. Here.” Gabriel pulled a bundle of beige clothing out of the closet and handed it to Castiel. “It’s called a trenchcoat. Humans wear them, apparently. It’s well insulated, I made it myself.”

The last thing he gave Castiel was a model car, of a 1967 Chevy Impala. “This is what Dean’s car looks like. It’s his pride and joy.”

“Thank you,” said Castiel, packing it in his bindle gently, alongside his toy soldier with the green eyes. He gave Gabriel a smile. “I’ll never forget you.”

Gabriel nodded. “Right...me either. Now, uh...scram.”

And with that, Castiel waved goodbye over his shoulder to the only home he’d ever had as he headed off to the human world, to find his soulmate, and hopefully, along the way, he would find who he was.


	3. Home for the Holidays

It was a long journey from the North Pole to Pontiac, Illinois. Castiel found that the human world was a lot different than the world of the angels. For one thing, animals didn’t talk. Castiel learned this quite quickly when trying to strike up a conversation with a grizzly bear.

Once he reached Canada, it was easy to hitch his way across the territories. Luckily Gabriel had provided him with an ID and a passport, which came in handy when crossing the border. When asked his reason for entering the United States, he’d responded with, “I’m looking for my soulmate,” which drew a smile from the lady at customs.

He arrived on the doorstep of the Novak residence and rang the doorbell. Then he rang it again. And again. And ag-

The door swung open, opened by a girl with blonde hair and heavy eyeliner. “What’s the matter, Dad, you lost your key?” she snorted.

This must be Claire. “I am not your father,” Castiel said.

Claire gave him a bewildered look. “Uhh, Mom?” she called over her shoulder.

A woman in a cardigan with a cross around her neck appeared behind her. “Sweetie, what are you doing home from work so early?” Amelia Novak asked.

“I am not your husband. My name is Castiel, James’s twin brother.”

Amelia and Claire looked ever more confused.

“My husband...doesn’t have a twin brother,” Amelia said, looking him up and down, unable to deny Castiel’s exact resemblance to her husband.

“We were adopted into separate homes, it’s unlikely he knows I exist. I didn’t know myself until a short time ago.” Castiel dug out his wallet with his new ID inside of it and showed it to her.

“It’s upside down,” said Claire.

“Oh.” Castiel quickly flipped the wallet over.

“Castiel...Lizzo?” Amelia raised an eyebrow.

“It’s...Italian.”

Amelia opened the door wider, stepping back. “Uh, come in...Mr. Lizzo.”

“Thank you. It’s quite cold, though not as cold as where I come from,” Castiel said, stepping inside.

“In Italy?” Claire said, crossing her arms suspiciously.

“More...up north,” Castiel fudged the truth. He didn’t like lying, since The Bible said lying was a sin, but Gabriel had advised him that telling people was raised by angels wasn’t likely to go over well.

_“But why don’t people believe in angels?” Castiel asked, tilting his head to the side innocently._

_“Well, some of them do, but they don’t believe we’re here, on Earth, making toys for Christmas. The truth is, most people...ah, most people are losing their ability to believe in anything. Like Santa, for example,” Gabriel explained._

_“People don’t believe in Santa?!” Castiel gasped. “But...but who do they think delivers all the toys?”_

_“Well, the humans believe the parents do that.”_

_“What? But parents couldn’t do that all in one night. I suppose they think the parents eat all the cookies and milk too?”_

_“Humans will explain away anything they can’t accept. And that’s why we’ve had to install the turbo engine onto Santa’s sleigh. You see, the reindeer run on Christmas spirit. But with spirit dwindling all over the world, there just isn’t enough to power the sleigh on its own anymore.”_

_“But why is spirit dwindling?” Castiel asked._

_A dark look grew over Gabriel’s face. “It all started 200 years or so ago. When the current Santa stepped in for the old one, she cleaned house. And that included sacking the head angel in charge of all guardians...my older brother.”_

_Castiel had heard of the Dark One. No one ever spoke his name in the North Pole, but they all feared him._

_“He’d been meddling with the Nice/Naughty List for years, marking down good children as naughty and bad ones as nice. Even I don’t know what his motivations were for sure...but I can guess. My older brother had had a falling out with our Father, and he hadn’t wanted Dad to start the Christmas operation up here, and he certainly didn’t want to work for it. My brother never loved humanity like Father had commanded us too. He was jealous, because before God created humans, he was the favorite child. Anyway, when he was put in charge of the List, he decided to sow discord, to prove to Father that humans were rotten and selfish and greedy. If he rigged the system so that the deserving didn’t get what they deserved, and the undeserving got what they_ **_didn’t_ ** _deserve, surely it would turn the humans against each other and bring out their worst nature. Santa put an end to his machinations by casting him out of the North Pole, but the deed was already done. Humanity’s spirit was crushed irrevocably, and it’s never recovered since.”_

_“Gabriel? Whatever happened to...the Dark One?”_

_“He’s said to be wandering the human world now, living among them, spreading unpleasantness in little ways. Sometimes I wonder if it was a good decision to let him go, to not keep tabs on him. Not that they consulted me about it.”_

Christmas spirit certainly didn’t seem to be in low supply in the Novak household however. The front hall and the living room beyond were decorated with lights and tinsel and holiday baubles of all kinds. On nearly every flat surface there was a Santa figurine, all with the bushy white beard and the bowl-full-of-jelly stomach (inaccurate, of course, but nonetheless festive). In the corner there was a beautiful Christmas tree all lit up, and the air wafting in from the kitchen was carrying the familiar flavor of gingerbread. Except for the lack of wings, it felt just like home. Castiel smiled.

Amelia had disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Castiel alone with the sullen teenager. Castiel looked at her and said, “So...what did you ask Santa for?”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Do I look like I’m five years old? I stopped believing in Santa ages ago.”

“Well, what would you like for Christmas?”

Claire thought for a moment. “Other than like, for the world to stop being so shitty? I guess like, some books or some video games. Or maybe some vinyls. I don’t really care.”

Castiel nodded solemnly. “I’ll put in a good word with the Boss.” He winked.

“What? Who?” Claire said, but Amelia returned with a tray of cookies and warm peppermint tea before Castiel had to answer her (fortunately).

For the rest of the afternoon, Castiel sat in the living room with Amelia and Claire, getting to know his new family, then helped Amelia make dinner. By the time Castiel’s brother returned home, it was like Castiel had been a part of the family for years.

James Novak was indeed the spitting image of Castiel, from his square jaw to his stubby fingers to his crystal blue eyes. The tax accountant tended to wear his hair a bit shorter and more neatly combed than the often disheveled Castiel, but other than that, you could never tell them apart just by looking at them.

It was easier to convince James (“please, call me Jimmy”) of Castiel’s identity than Amelia and Claire. Jimmy seemed to trust Castiel immediately, and was thrilled with the idea of having a brother. “We may have separated at infancy, but the Lord brought us back together,” said Jimmy tearfully, after hugging Castiel tightly. “Please, say you’ll spend the holidays with us.”

“I would love to do that,” Castiel said wistfully as they sipped their post-dinner eggnog on the couch. “But unfortunately I am on a mission. I’ve recently discovered that my soulmate resides in Lebanon, Kansas, and I’m going to meet him.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Jimmy said, clutching his wife’s hand. “I remember the first time I met Amelia and saw that our marks matched. I knew I was going to have companionship for the rest of my life. We wish you and your soulmate every happiness.”

“But you are welcome here anytime, Castiel,” Amelia said. “You’re the only family James has besides Claire and me, now that his adoptive parents are gone. Please say you’ll come back.”

Even Claire nodded hopefully.

Castiel smiled. “Of course I will.”

“However, it’s very late,” Jimmy said, standing and taking everyone’s mugs. “Castiel, I insist you stay the night. And we’ll see about getting you a Greyhound ticket to Kansas tomorrow morning.”

* * *

The next day, Castiel found himself riding cross-country on his way to Lebanon. He stared out the window in delight at the snowy scenery rushing past. “There’s so much snow outside,” he gushed to the woman on the seat next to him, Patty. “Not as much snow as there is at the North Pole of course. But quite a lot.”

“Uh huh,” said Patty, clearly bored and wishing the odd chatty man beside her would just let her sleep.

It took roughly 12 hours to finally reach the station in Lebanon, so it was early afternoon by the time he reached Dean’s address. Sure enough, parked on the street in front of the modest yet charming red brick house was a life size version of Castiel’s toy Chevy Impala. Castiel grinned, cheeks flushed with excitement. He was finally here!

He rang the doorbell and shifted nervously. After a few minutes, a man in grey robes opened the door. “Can I help you?” he asked brusquely.

Castiel felt his heart skip a beat and his entire body heated up—and it had nothing to do with his trenchcoat. He’d never known a sensation like this before. He’d never gazed into a face so beautiful as this man’s. Despite the hard, annoyed set of his jaw and eyebrows, his intense green eyes seemed to shine with a light that all that outward anger couldn’t dim. Looking into them was like getting hit in the face with a snowball; they left him out of breath. 

“You are...Dean Winchester?” Castiel said hopefully.

“Yeah. You from Sandover Publishing? Look, I told those dicks on the phone I’d have the stupid book finished by New Year’s-”

“No, no,” Castiel said, laughing nervously. “I...I’m your soulmate.”

Dean stared at him for a moment, then went, “Nope,” and slammed the door in his face.


	4. Blue Christmas

Castiel was still standing on the front stoop in shock. His soulmate _didn’t want him_. Castiel wanted to cry.

“Excuse me. Can I help you?” said a voice behind him. Castiel sniffled hard and turned around to see a very tall man with longish brown hair in winter jogging clothes standing in the driveway a few feet away.

“I...uh...I came to see the man who lives here, but...he didn’t really want to talk,” said Castiel softly.

“Who, Dean? I’m his brother Sam, by the way.”

“I’m Castiel,” he said, taking the proffered hand. “And I’m...Dean’s soulmate.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Wait, really? You are?” Castiel nodded and Sam laughed with delight. He certainly seemed the more personable of the Winchester siblings. “That’s amazing! And you said Dean wouldn’t talk to you?”

“He just...shut the door.”

Sam frowned. “Of course he did. Jerk just can’t take a good thing at face value. Hold on, I’ll get him for you.”

“No, no, you don’t have to-” But Sam was already barreling, determined, through the front door with Castiel in tow.

“Dean!” hollered Sam. “Get down here and talk to your soulmate!”

 _“Get that grifter outta here, Sammy!”_ Castiel heard Dean yell from upstairs.

“How do you know he’s a grifter, Dean? Did you even see his mark?”

Dean poked his head down from the second story and glared at Sam and Castiel. “I’m a semi-famous author, Sam. Do you know how many kooks have tracked me down in the past and shown up claiming to be my soulmate? Why do you think I moved in with you and Eileen? I had to throw those bloodhounds off the trail!”

“I thought you moved in with us because you ran out of money because you still haven’t finished your next book,” said Sam knowingly. Dean glared daggers at him. “Dean, the least you could do is check him out,” the younger Winchester brother pleaded. “What if he’s the real deal?”

Dean huffed out a breath, then rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

He stomped down the stairs and crossed his arms, looking expectantly at Castiel. Castiel cleared his throat nervously. “If it makes you feel any better, Dean, I’ve never read a single one of your books.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Just whip out the mark, man.”

Castiel shed his trenchcoat, then his suit jacket that Jimmy had lent him (“You’ll want to look sharp when you meet your soulmate!”), then finally unbuttoned his sleeve and rolled it up to show his mark.

Sam studied it and clicked his tongue. “Looks pretty identical, Dean.”

Dean harrumphed softly, then licked the pad of his thumb, glaring at Castiel. He took a hold of his wrist and ran his spit-moistened thumb down his arm, sweeping over the mark.

“See, no ink,” Sam said. “It’s legit.”

Dean stood there, mulling over that for a second. “Could be a tattoo,” he finally said. “Or henna.”

“Oh _come on,_ Dean, just admit it! You finally found your soulmate,” said Sam triumphantly.

Dean crossed his arms, grumbling softly and refusing to look either of them in the eye.

“Dean, I’m sorry,” said Castiel in a small, dejected tone. “I didn’t mean to ambush you with all of this, I assure you. I only wished to meet you. But I will leave, if you like.”

“That’s crazy, you have to stay,” Sam insisted. “Dean’s just a grouch, he just needs to warm up to you. At least stay for dinner. I’m making vegan chili.”

“Which should be considered a fucking war crime,” Dean added, rolling his eyes.

“You can’t even taste the difference, Dean!”

“Yes, I can! I can taste the sadness. I can taste the chili thinking to itself, _I should have never been created. My existence is an affront to the laws of God and man_.”

“You should put that in your book,” Castiel said.

He’d been completely sincere when he said it, but Dean looked at him in surprise, laughed softly, and said, “Well, at least my soulmate’s funny.”

“See, you’re getting along already. Please stay for dinner,” Sam said.

“I’d be happy to, if Dean’s alright with it?” Castiel risked a look at his soulmate.

Dean shrugged noncommittally. “Sure. At least I’ll have someone to complain to about the vegan chili, since Eileen always takes your side.”

“Who’s Eileen?” Castiel asked, looking at Sam.

“My wife. She’s a teacher, she’ll be home around 4 or 5. Come on, let’s all go sit down in the living room and get acquainted.”

“I can’t, gotta write,” Dean said with a smirk.

“Dean, have you written even a _single_ word today?”

Dean opened his mouth, then glared at Sam.

“That’s what I thought.”

“What about you, Mr. Bigshot Lawyer? Don’t you have...I dunno, cases to go over or somethin’?”

“I finished all my documentation last night, Dean. Because unlike you, I don’t procrastinate.”

Dean didn’t seem to have a good response to that, so he merely rolled his eyes and said, “Bitch.”

“Jerk,” Sam replied, almost automatically, as if they bickered like this everyday. He hung up Castiel’s trenchcoat and ushered them both into the living room.

* * *

Dean wasn’t much of a talker, at least around new people, Castiel noted. He and Sam held most of the conversation while Dean just brooded, occasionally throwing in a sarcastic comment. At one point Dean did get up and go to the kitchen, returning 10 minutes later with a plate of Christmas cookies and three steaming mugs of hot chocolate, much to Castiel’s delight. He sipped his drink, which was topped off with whipped cream and chocolate sauce, and sighed fondly. “I appreciate knowing another human with my affinity for hot chocolate culture,” he said to Dean.

Dean lifted an eyebrow at him over his own mug. “Uh...you’re a little weird, you know that?”

“There’s a particular flavor to this though,” said Castiel, sipping thoughtfully. “Is it...mint?”

“Peppermint, yeah,” said Dean, actually smiling. He had a lovely smile. “Instead of using a spoon to mix the hot chocolate mix in, I use a candy cane so the candy melts and mixes in with it.”

“That’s genius!” Castiel exclaimed.

“Dean’s big on sweets,” Sam said. “He’s had to have our dentist friend Garth give him three fillings.”

Dentist? What was a dentist? What were fillings? They sounded delicious. But instead of asking, Castiel wisely decided to just nod.

“If you’ll excuse me for another sec, I gotta go see a man about a dog,” said Dean, getting up and poking his brother playfully as he left.

Sam shared a knowing smile with Castiel once the elder Winchester was out of earshot. “He likes you.”

“He does?” Castiel said in surprise. Dean had been sort of...not cold, exactly, since Sam had welcomed him in, but not overly friendly either.

“He made hot chocolate especially for you. He only makes me tea and stuff when I’m sick or stressed out from work. He just met you and he’s already taking care of you. I know he seems prickly but that’s just Dean. He’ll warm up to you.”

Castiel smiled. “I hope we’ll be as happy as you and your soulmate are.”

Sam’s face twisted with surprise. “Oh...Eileen’s not my soulmate.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume.”

“No, no, it’s okay. Uh...my soulmate died, actually.”

Castiel reached over and touched Sam’s forearm. “I’m so sorry. My own parents died in a car accident, but I was only a baby when it happened so I never really knew them. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for you.”

Sam smiled sadly, shaking his head. “It was several years ago, when I was in college, getting ready for law school. I fell for Jessica right away, and we were happy...until one night, when she was driving back from a late night at the library, and a drunk driver plowed into her car. It was...really hard. I thought I’d never find love again, that Jess was it. Then I met Eileen.” Sam shrugged, smiling brightening again. “Happy ending.”

“What about Eileen’s soulmate?”

“She’s never found them. She says she doesn’t care about marks, she loves me and that’s enough.”

“I think that’s beautiful. Your love is strong because you forged it yourself.”

“Exactly.” Sam frowned at the doorway thoughtfully. “Dean doesn’t exactly have the best track record with marks,” he added, quieter.

“Because of the stalkers?”

“That’s part of it. But mostly because of Lisa and Benny.”

“Who are Lisa and Benny?”

“Two people Dean fell for, _hard_. He met Lisa in high school, and they dated for a couple years. I think Dean was planning on proposing after graduation, but then, a new guy transferred to Lawrence High their senior year: Lisa’s soulmate. So Lisa dumped him. Turns out she was just dating him as a placeholder until she found who she was _really_ meant to be with. Some people only put value on a relationship if it’s a soulmate relationship. Dean was crushed. The irony is, Lisa and Neal’s marriage only lasted a year and a half. They were miserable with each other. Serves her right.”

“And Benny?” Castiel asked.

“Benny,” said Dean loudly, making Sam and Castiel both jump in surprise as they turned to see Dean leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed, “was my boyfriend until he met his soulmate Andrea a year ago. We tried to make a poly thing work, but Andrea wasn’t interested in sharing her soulmate, so I gracefully bowed out. End of story.” Dean leveled a look at Sam. “Any of my other personal business you wanna share, Samantha?”

“Dean, I’m sorry, I was just-”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He turned and left, no doubt going back upstairs to his room.

Castiel put down his half-drunk mug of cocoa. “He’s upset with me.”

“No, he’s mad at me. But I’m worried I may have just made things weird for you two.” Sam frowned apologetically at Castiel.

Castiel shook his head. “You were just trying to help. You’re worried your brother’s heart will be broken again. I promise you, I will treat Dean’s heart as if it were a snowglobe.”

Sam blinked. “You’re gonna...shake it?”

“With the utmost care.”

Sam smiled. “I knew I liked you for a reason, Castiel.”


	5. Hark The Herald Angels Sing

Dean stayed upstairs and sulked until dinner. Eileen came home from work and was delighted when she found that Castiel was fluent at sign language. This led to Castiel guilelessly revealing that he was fluent in nine different languages, including ASL, much to Sam and Eileen’s shock. 

“Oh, that’s nothing compared to Gabriel,” Castiel said as he helped set the table. “He knows every language that’s ever been spoken or written.” Angels, of course, knew every language, due to their having been around since the dawn of creation, but Castiel had been a very apt pupil as a young human.

“Oh, come on, that’s impossible,” said Sam. “I bet he doesn’t know, like...ancient Sumerian.”

“Oh yes. He once tried to teach me some of it, but I didn’t retain any. I think the phrase he tried to teach me was...‘you breed with the mouth of a goat.’”

Sam and Eileen stared blankly.

“According to Gabriel, it’s funnier in the original Sumerian.”

“Whoever this Gabriel is, he’s certainly a skilled linguist to know _every_ language that’s ever existed,” Sam said, still slightly skeptical as he ladled out the chili.

“Gabriel is the man who raised me,” Castiel replied. “He took me in when my parents died and my twin brother was adopted. I’ve lived with him my whole life.”

“Where do you live?” Eileen asked.

“At...” Castiel hesitated. Gabriel had advised him not to tell humans the truth about his origins, but this was his new family now, right? He could trust them. “The North Pole,” he finished confidently.

“The _North Pole_?” Castiel turned around to see Dean coming into the dining room, dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt over a black tee and shaved. Dean snorted. “Lemme guess, you work for Santa making toys?”

“Yes, although I’m not very good at it. The others are faster than me.”

“Aren’t you a little tall to be an elf?” Dean laughed, sitting down across from Castiel and propping his hands behind his head.

“I’m not an elf. I’m human. But I was raised by angels. Christmas angels. Everyone gets that part wrong. It’s angels that work for Santa.”

Dean, Sam, and Eileen stared at him blankly. Eileen turned to Sam, bewildered, and signed, _Am I reading his lips right?_ To which Sam nodded slowly.

“I...can’t tell if he’s joking or not, he’s pretty much deadpan all the time,” Dean said.

“I am not joking. I know it must be hard to believe, but it’s the truth. I was adopted by an angel and raised to make toys in Santa’s workshop. Only the angel who raised me informed me that I was human, and sent me out into the world to find my soulmate.” Castiel smiled at Dean.

The room was silent. Until finally Dean burst out laughing. “‘Just talk to him, Dean. Let him come in. Invite him to stay for dinner.’” Dean looked at his younger brother. “Well congrats, pal, you were right. Cas is my soulmate alright. And he’s also completely Looney Tunes.”

“Dean!” Sam admonished.

“What? He is! He thinks he was raised by angels. _Angels!_ ” Dean cackled.

“I don’t think it, I know it,” Castiel said firmly. Why was Dean so amused by this? And what had he just called him?

“Castiel, uh...you know _logically_ that you couldn’t have been raised at the North Pole, right?” Sam said. “I mean the North Pole is too cold to sustain life, except for like, polar bears and seals.”

“Angels don’t have to worry about the cold. And as for me, Gabriel kept me warm with his grace until I was of a certain age, then he kept me dressed in thermal clothing. I suppose I built up a certain tolerance to the cold, growing up in the arctic. But Santa’s facilities are also very well insulated.”

Dean was on the floor by this point, howling. “Holy shit, I’m using this stuff for my next book. This is hilarious.”

“Dean, it’s not funny, get up!” Sam said.

Dean took a few deep breaths and climbed back into his seat. “Y’know what I think, Cas? I think you were raised by some sort of fringe religious cult in Canada that worships Santa Claus and somehow they let you escape the commune.”

“I am not lying to you, Dean,” Castiel said angrily.

“Oh I definitely don’t think you are. I think you’re just punch drunk on whatever Kool-Aid these Holly Jolly Heaven’s Gaters have been feeding you.”

“I don’t understand that reference.”

“You know what?” Eileen said loudly. “It’s fine.”

Sam, Dean, and Castiel looked at her questioningly as she calmly ate a spoonful of vegan chili. 

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

Eileen shrugged. “So Cas believes he was raised by Christmas angels. Who cares?”

“I _was_ raised by Christmas angels,” Castiel insisted, signing as he spoke.

“That’s fine,” Eileen said. “Let’s not argue about it.”

“But...” Sam said slowly.

“But he’s _nuts!_ ” Dean finished for him.

“My Irish aunt Lillian swore up and down that the reason I was deaf was because of a banshee. People believe different things.”

That left Sam and Dean speechless. They looked at Castiel, who decided to follow Eileen’s lead, seeing as she seemed to be the wisest person in the room, and eat his chili. He popped a spoonful in his mouth and let the warm, chunky substance sit on his tongue for a second before swallowing. “Interesting,” he said.

“Is it any worse or better than traditional chili?” Sam asked casually, deciding to just go along with what his wife said and drop it.

“I don’t know. I have nothing to compare it to. We didn’t eat meat where I come from.”

“See? _Cult-y_ ,” Dean muttered, to which Sam responded with a sharp kick under the table. They didn’t talk about it for the rest of the meal.

* * *

“So, Cas, I noticed you didn’t drive here. Can I give you a lift to where you’re staying?” Sam asked as Castiel helped him with the dishes. Sam had said he was a guest and that he didn’t have to, but Castiel wanted to help.

“Oh...I guess you can just take me back to the bus station. I’m sure there’s an empty bench I can sleep on.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “Cas, you don’t have a place to stay?”

“I guess I didn’t really think about it,” Castiel admitted.

“Well, you’ll stay with us. There’s a pair of twin beds upstairs in the loft for guests; Dean sleeps in one, you can take the other.”

“Are you sure he wouldn’t mind sharing with me?”

“Oh, he’ll probably gripe about it, but he won’t really mind.”

“You’re very kind, Sam. You must be on Santa’s Nice List.”

Sam stiffened at that, not quite sure what to say, then he decided to just nod and smile. “Thanks.”

As everyone got ready to turn in, Castiel climbed up the stairs to the modest loft area upstairs. It had a low, sloped ceiling, with a home office area on one side, and the aforementioned beds on the other. There were a couple of closets and a door leading to a bathroom, which Dean was just now coming out of. He jumped in surprise at the sight of Castiel and put a hand to his heart. “Dammit, Cas, you scared me,” he grumbled.

“My apologies,” said Castiel awkwardly. “Um, Sam said I could sleep here?”

Dean rolled his eyes, but gestured to the bed that was still made up and didn’t have dirty clothes scattered around it. Dean cleared his throat, going over to his own bed and shoving the clothes out of sight. “Sorry, don’t typically get guests,” he said sardonically.

“I apologize for invading your space.”

“It’s fine, just don’t, like...mess with my stuff and we’ll be fine.” Dean looked at Cas’s empty hands. “Speaking of which, where’s _your_ stuff?”

Castiel looked down. “Well I left my coat downstairs.”

“You’re tellin’ me you came here with nothing but the clothes on your back?”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “No, Dean, I’m not gross.” He pulled something out of his back pocket. “I also have my toothbrush.”

Dean suddenly laughed, a genuine laugh, not skeptical or derisive. “I mean you don’t have any jammies or anything?”

“I can sleep in this.”

“Come on, man, you’ll wrinkle up your nice clothes. Here...” Dean dug around in the duffel bag by the foot of his bed. “You can wear these,” he said, giving him a pair of flannel pajama pants and a worn tee shirt.

“Thank you.” Castiel gingerly unfolded the shirt. “What does...‘Metal Licka’ mean?”

“You don’t know Metallica?” Dean said in disbelief. “What, there’s no rock music in Jonestown either?”

“We listen to Christmas carols,” said Castiel.

“Right. Shoulda guessed. Well, tomorrow you and me are gonna have to fix that. But for now, you should get ready for bed, and I’m gonna _try_ to work on my novel.”

“What are you writing about?”

“It’s...well, there’s a guy named Nathan, and he goes camping in the woods...”

“And?” Cas gently promptly.

Dean sighed, shrugging. “That’s all I got. I’m stuck. And my deadline is in less than two weeks. Luckily it’s a kids’ picture book so it’ll be short, but I really thought I’d have something by now.” 

“Maybe it’s an enchanted forest,” said Cas dreamily. “With talking deer and birds who help Nathan on his way through the woods.”

Dean blinked at him. “Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” He turned and sat back down at his computer.

Castiel shrugged and started to undo his belt.

“ _Whoa_ , dude, what are you doing?” Dean said.

“I’m...changing?”

“In the _bathroom_ , man,” Dean groaned. “Not right in front of me.”

Cas blushed. “I apol-”

“And if you apologize one more time, I’m gonna smack you.” Dean’s little smirk told Castiel he wasn’t serious.

“I’m sor-I mean...I’ll just go in there then.” Blushing even more profusely now, Castiel awkwardly stepped into the bathroom.

Cas found that the sleep clothes Dean had given him were very comfortable indeed. After he was dressed, he re-emerged from the bathroom to find Dean absorbed in his computer. He looked around awkwardly, trying to think of something to say (or maybe he shouldn’t say anything at all?) when his eyes landed on a stack of brightly colored books. Castiel squinted and saw that all of the spines had “Dean Winchester” stamped on them. “These are the books you've written?” Cas said curiously, picking up the top one. _The Teddy Bear Doctor_ , it was titled.

Dean grunted, typing aggressively, then growling and punching the backspace button.

Castiel ran his hand over the glossy cover, a cartoon of a cheerful little girl wearing a stethoscope and holding a teddy bear. “The illustrations are very nice.”

“That’s my buddy Charlie. She’s a great artist.” Dean looked over his shoulder to see which book Cas was looking at. “Stupid friggin’ Disney Channel totally ripped off _Doc McStuffins_ from that one. Sandover tried to sue for intellectual theft but the judge tossed the case out. Too bad too, I’d be rolling in royalties if we’d won that one.”

Cas laid it aside and picked up the next one. “ _The Good Vampire_?”

Dean coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, _Twilight_ mania was big when Sandover commissioned that one. I, uh...I based the main character on Benny,” he admitted.

Cas put that one aside too, sensing Dean didn’t want him to read it. He smiled at the cover of the next one. “I don’t have to guess the inspiration for this one,” he said, holding up _In Dad’s Car_ , decorated with a classic black Impala on the front.

“Yeah, was trying to appeal to boys and their dads with that one. Some of my best memories were when Dad would take me and Sammy on road trips.” Dean suddenly frowned at the floor. “Didn’t happen that often, though.”

Castiel remembered what Gabriel had told him about Dean’s father and put that book aside too, picking up another. “What about this one?” he asked, holding up _The Queen of Moondoor_ , which had a girl with streaming red hair holding a sword high above her head in triumph.

Dean laughed. “That’s one of my favorites. It’s about Charlie, my illustrator buddy. She LARPs in her spare time. She was fucking _thrilled_ to draw herself kicking ass and saving the fairy princess. The assholes at Sandover didn’t like the queer themes, they wanted me to make Charlie a king instead of a queen, but I put my foot down.”

Castiel hugged the book to his chest. “May I?”

“Sure,” Dean said, and Cas could’ve sworn he blushed. “I mean, you know, if you want to. You don’t have to. It’s just dumb kid stuff.”

“It’s not dumb to me, if you wrote it,” Cas said, smiling.

Dean huffed nervously. “Uh...go on then.”

Castiel slid into his bed and opened the book, taking in the story eagerly. About halfway through, though, his eyes fell shut and he nodded off with the book face down on his chest.

The next morning he woke up to find the book on the nightstand beside him with a bookmark holding his place, and the covers pulled up over him.


	6. Rockin' Around The Christmas Tree

After getting dressed, Castiel clambered down the stairs to the smell of fresh coffee. He turned into the kitchen to find Dean, still in his pajamas and robe, leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping from a mug like his very existence depended on it.

“Good morning, Dean,” said Castiel brightly.

Dean grunted back.

Cas squinted and saw a picture of a man with long hair and a white coat on Dean’s mug, with the words  _ Dr. Sexy, MD _ in swirly writing over the image. “Who is Dr. Sexy?” he asked.

Dean choked, turning away to hide the mug from Cas’s curious eyes. “Uh, I dunno. Just grabbed a random mug from the shelf. This must be Sam’s.”

Cas shrugged. “Where are Sam and Eileen?”

“At work, dude,” said Dean like it was obvious. “It’s 9 o’clock in the morning.”

“But it’s Christmas Eve Eve Eve!” Cas said, bewildered. “And there’s so much we have to do. There aren’t even any decorations up!”

Dean shrugged. “So?”

“ _ So? _ This house has dangerously low levels of Christmas spirit. We need to get this place in shape if we’re to be ready when Santa comes.”

Dean rolled his eyes as he followed Cas into the living room. “Why would Santa come here? Sam and Eileen don’t have any spawn to leave toys for.”

“She may not come to this house specifically, but the lack of spirit could severely endanger the sleigh. The reindeer run on Christmas spirit, you know.”

Dean blinked. “ _ She? _ Are you saying Santa is a chick?”

“Yes. She’s had the job for two centuries. The old Santa was male, but he retired and passed the job to her,” Cas explained absently as he looked around to see what could be done.

“Oh, so being Santa is like a job title, like in  _ The Santa Clause _ . That’s a movie,” Dean added helpfully.

“Yes. Now where do Sam and Eileen keep their holiday decorations?”

“Uh...try upstairs in the storage closets, maybe? I dunno if they even have any decorations.”

It turned out that they did have some, but not much. A small, sad plastic tree with only a handful of decorations and one string of lights, and a figurine of Rudolph from the Hallmark store that Eileen had been gifted from one of her students years ago, that had one of its antlers broken off. “This won’t do, Dean,” said Cas, shaking his head. “We need to go to the store and get everything they have.”

“I don’t know of any store even selling Christmas decorations,” said Dean, scratching his head.

“What? But it’s three days before Christmas. Surely  _ somewhere _ will be selling.”

Dean shrugged. “The holidays just aren’t a big deal in this town. I don’t know anyone who decorates.”

Castiel set his jaw. “Leave it to me.”

* * *

By the time Sam and Eileen had returned home, the house was a winter wonderland. Printer paper had been expertly cut into intricate strings of paper snowflakes that hung from the ceiling and across doorways and windows. A whole gingerbread village had been cut out and shaped from cardboard. Castiel had somehow even managed to make that sad little tree look festive.

Sam and Eileen stared around their living room in shock. Dean was standing in the middle of it all. He shrugged at them. “Don’t look at me. This was all Angel Boy’s doing.”

Castiel entered from the kitchen with some freshly baked Christmas cookies. “Oh good, you’re home! What do you think?”

His smile was so sweet and pure that Sam and Eileen couldn’t help but smile too. “It looks great in here, Cas,” said Eileen.

“Yeah, you really didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” said Sam.

“First rule of the Angel Code: treat everyday like Christmas.” Castiel beamed and offered the plate to them. “Cookie?”

Sam and Eileen shrugged and each took a cookie. “Mmm,” hummed Sam. “Gotta hand it to you, these are really good, Cas.”

“It’s too bad more people can’t appreciate your efforts,” Eileen added.

“Ooh, you mean like a party?” Castiel’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Well, that wasn’t  _ exactly _ what I-”

“Ooh, and I could meet all Dean’s friends! Like your illustrator!” Cas looked at Dean.

“Uh...yeah. Charlie would love to meet you,” Dean said with a shrug.

“It’s a little late notice for a party,” Sam tried to say gently.

“But it’s not too late notice for a casual get together,” Eileen objected. Sam gave her a mystified look. She shrugged and signed,  _ Why not? Cas did all this work, and it’s not like our friends are super busy. Someone has to be free tonight. _

Sam pursed his lips thoughtfully, then shrugged. “Oh, why not. I’ll call everyone, see who’s available.”

“And I’ll handle the snacks,” said Dean with a grin. “If I leave it up to Sammy, it’ll be meatless, gluten free dogcrap.”

“Okay, but at least get  _ something _ vegan? Not everyone is a carnivore like you, Dean.”

“That’s me, the Meat Man!” Dean grinned.

“I told you that doesn’t mean what you think it means,” Sam said over his shoulder as he left the room.

Dean looked at Eileen and Cas and scoffed. “Yes it does.”

* * *

Several hours later, they had a modest party going. Dean had unearthed an old boom box from storage and got some soft rock going. Cas had wanted Christmas music (because it was a holiday party, after all), but Sam didn’t seem to own any Christmas CDs. They couldn’t even get a holiday station to come in on the radio, which was strange.

A couple of Sam’s friends from work had come over, a young guy who looked barely out of college named Kevin, and a couple of guys named Victor and Arthur who didn’t look all that impressed with Cas’s decorations. Garth, Sam and Dean’s dentist friend, and his wife Beth, however, seemed to love them. Eileen had invited an older woman named Rowena, a fellow teacher, who’d been flirting with everyone in the room, but had finally settled on Arthur, who seemed responsive. Then there was Meg, who’d begun flirting with Cas from the moment they were introduced, until Dean grouchily broke them up.

Charlie was the last to arrive. Castiel knew her immediately from her illustration in  _ The Queen of Moondoor _ . She made a beeline for Dean and Castiel. “Is this the guy, Dean? Oh wow, he  _ is _ dreamy! But I thought he’d be shorter?”

“And this is my friend Charlie, who  _ talks too much,” _ said Dean pointedly.

Charlie threw her arms around Castiel. “I already can tell we’re gonna be best friends. Tell me everything about you!”

“Hey, Charles, you met our friend Meg yet?” Dean turned Charlie toward the other woman, who caught Charlie’s eye and winked.

Charlie squared her shoulders. “I’ll talk to you guys later,” she said absently, as she flounced off to talk to her.

Dean laughed. “Nothin’ distracts that girl more than another pretty girl. Except maybe a spirited debate about  _ Star Wars _ . Hey Cas, watch this.” Dean cupped his hands around his mouth.  _ “Luke Skywalker is straight!” _

_ “That’s a damn lie!” _ Charlie shouted back.

Dean chuckled.

“Dean?” said Castiel cautiously. “Do you not want your friends to talk to me?”

“What? No, no. It’s just...Charlie can be a little  _ much _ at first, ya know? I thought I’d give her a chance to chill out before you guys got to talking.”

“And Meg?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Meg doesn’t make friends. She makes enemies.”

“You have very strange acquaintances, Dean.”

Dean pinched his nose playfully. “You’re the strangest one of ‘em, Angel Boy.”

As the party went on, however, it was clear that everyone immediately loved Cas. Garth and Beth immediately loved him. He got shy, awkward Kevin to open up, and even got Victor and Arthur to get into the spirit of things. “I must say, you Americans do the holidays differently,” Arthur said. “In England, Christmas and the like are a big to-do.”

“Surely Lebanon does  _ something _ for the winter holidays,” said Castiel.

“I immigrated here five years ago, and this is the most festivity I’ve seen anyone in this town partake in. The shops don’t carry any holiday fare, people don’t decorate, they don’t throw Christmas parties...it’s the strangest thing.” Arthur shrugged.

Castiel’s eyebrows came together, puzzled. “You mean no one celebrates the holidays at all?”

“I’m sure there’s some observance behind closed doors. I wouldn’t know.”

Castiel knew he didn’t know that much about the world outside of the North Pole, but he knew enough to know that the holidays were a big deal, at least in America.

Something was very, very wrong in Lebanon, Kansas.

Castiel excused himself and went back across the room to where Dean was chatting with Charlie. “Dean.  _ Dean! _ We need to talk. I think there’s-”

“Oooooh, what’s  _ that? _ ” Charlie laughed, pointing about their heads.

Cas and Dean looked up at the same time to see a green sprig hanging over their heads. “Is that...kale?” Dean said, scratching his head.

“We didn’t have any mistletoe, so I had to improvise,” said Sam as he entered from the kitchen with a glass of wine. It was then that the two soulmates noticed that the whole room was staring at them.

Dean shrugged, despite his blush at all the quiet giggling. “It ain’t mistletoe. Doesn’t count.”

“I don’t understand, what is the significance of this?” Cas asked.

Dean looked at him, eyebrows raised. “A Christmas tradition you don’t know? I’m surprised. See, these wise guys are expecting us to kiss, since we got caught under the mistletoe. But since it ain’t really mistletoe, we don’t have to.” He flipped off the other partygoers, who were booing.

“I see...do you not...want to?” Cas asked in a small voice.

Dean’s eyes widened, his spine stiffening. “Oh, uh! I didn’t say-...I mean, not that I...uh...if  _ you _ wanted to, I-”

Cas decided to settle things by leaning forward and gently kissing Dean on the cheek. The writer’s face turned red, as the others whooped teasingly. Dean laughed softly, looking away from Cas. “Aw, shut up, you vultures,” he said to the others.

Cas raised a hand to his mouth, giggling quietly.


End file.
